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  • Writer's pictureJaycee

#002 when the trickster gets played


You played your little tricks

as if I asked to be entertained.

I told you I was parched

and you led me to Marah.

From your lips came no words

when I asked what you meant.

My love met your drought.

You cut me into two.

The audience clapped

for they love when you're cruel.


The autumn leaves fall

but don't blink; be aware.

The ones you thought dead may not be after all.

I'm still here with my case

and with cracks on my lips.

My mouth bleeds with poison.

I'm so happy that it's sick.

"He's playing with himself.

It'll be pretty when he learns

that our little plans weren't ever his to nix."


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